


Bitter Sweet

by Storm337



Series: 2019 Tumblr Drabbles [34]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Bleeding, Blood, Choking, Gen, Poisoning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-02
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-24 18:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22082284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storm337/pseuds/Storm337
Summary: Poison with HostRequested on Tumblr by Blitzindite
Series: 2019 Tumblr Drabbles [34]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1587562
Kudos: 16





	Bitter Sweet

The Host gratefully took the surprisingly small and delicate teacup from Wilford’s also surprisingly steady hands. His narrations told him that the high-quality dish set was old, older perhaps than the mansion itself, which was certainly older than Wilford, but maybe not as old as Dark. He raised the thin porcelain to his lips, smelling deeply steeped rose and sugar, before taking a tentative sip. It was….good. Not too sweet, not as sweet as Wilford liked most things, but not bitter either. The rose was quite nice actually, and the Host took a longer drink, thoroughly enjoying the pleasant warmth that pooled in his belly. 

“The Host thanks Wilford for the tea. He has picked an exquisite blend. The Host inquiries as to where Wilford purchased it.” 

Wilford’s boisterous laugh shook his body, but not his hands. He knocked the tea back like it was a shot, his over-exaggerated sigh of pleasure accompanied by his body sagging in his chair. 

“Made it myself, actually! Ya know, we got an entire maze made of rose hedges out back?”

“The Host was.” 

“It’s a lil’ overgrown but makes some very nice tea! Why’d ya ask?” 

A small smile stretched the Host’s lips, as delicate as the teacup he drank from, until all of the liquid was gone. He placed it gently back on the table with its matching saucer, hoping that Wilford would take the hint and pour him another cup. 

“The Host would like to ask Wilford for some. He...quite likes it.” 

“Well of course, old boy, of course!” The snicker Wilford let out, poorly concealed behind his mustache, sent sudden shivers up the Host’s spine. “With or without the secret ingredient?”

“What? The Host does not know to what Wilford is ref-” 

The Host’s Sight flashed within his mind’s eyes, showing him what was going to happen seconds before it did. He could see himself grabbing uselessly at his throat, choking desperately and clawing for air as his windpipe began to swell and close. His face turned red, both flushed and covered in blood as he staggered to his feet. He would not make it far, tripping over the table without his narrations and sending the ancient tea set shattered to the ground. Soon after the Host would follow, openly weeping and begging as he began to slip from consciousness, the poison rotting heavily in his stomach, his nails scratching deep lines into his neck. 

Wilford would be offended at the destroyed dish set, and tell the Host to stop ruining his joke. It would be the last thing the Host heard before he slipped into consciousness. 

“Got’cha, Hosty boy,” Wilford laughed, and the Host felt his throat suddenly constrict. 


End file.
